


The Christmas Star

by RebeccaPrimm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belts, Blasphemy, Blood, Breathplay, Christmas Music, Christmas Smut, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Impact Play, M/M, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Religious Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, Subspace, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaPrimm/pseuds/RebeccaPrimm
Summary: Dean and Cas take a moment, just the two of them, to relax under the stars on the side of a country road and have a couple of beers. Coincidentally, it also happens to be the night of the planetary confluence. There ALSO happens to be a deserted barn nearby. Cas gets a mischievous gleam in his eye, and Dean goes along with whatever shenanigans his angel has obviously planned. He just hopes his plans don't involve a nativity set or hanging out with a bunch of shepherds or anything along those lines. Dean and Cas have a history with barns though, so maybe this one will be good luck for them. Or at least, Dean is hoping he might end up getting lucky in THIS particular barn.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	The Christmas Star

**Author's Note:**

> There are some religious themes mentioned in explicit sex scenes, so steer clear if that is not your thing.

“Would you look at that sky? It’s been a while since we’ve been out past the city lights. That case in Detroit lasted longer than I thought it would. I missed the stars.”

Dean looked down and cracked open his beer, taking a long drink and leaning back against the hood of the Impala. After a beat he looked over at the man in the trench coat standing next to him, noticing his silence. Castiel wasn’t looking up at the stars though. He was looking at Dean. Dean held his eyes for a moment, and then began to feel self-conscious and smiled softly, looking back down and taking another drink. Cas finally broke his gaze and also drank from his own bottle. 

“Is that the Christmas star right there? Tonight’s the night it’s supposed to be visible, right? First time in 800 years or some crap?” Dean asked. He nodded his head vaguely at the bright reddish glow that stood out from the rest in the sky.

Castiel smiled and nodded. “Of course it’s not really a star. It’s a confluence of planets, Jupiter and Saturn.” 

Dean huffed a little. “Still cool,” he said under his breath.

“Yes, Dean. Still very cool. People are calling it the Bethlehem Star, though I don’t really know if there was a confluence of planets on the night of Christ’s birth or not, since the date of his birth is debated, December 25th being hijacked to coincide with the pagan celebration of Solstice. I suppose I could ask,” he nodded up towards the sky “I could ask around at the ‘office’, as it were.”

Dean laughed outright at that. Castiel chuckled with him. They both drank some more and relaxed against the car.

Their breath made puffs of smoke in the air. The air was cold and quiet and heavy in that way that winter air is. They had parked off of a gravel road curving into a field. The black spears of a rail fence in shadow stood out against the horizon. There was no breeze, which was good because it would have made the cold air intolerable. Though the temps were below freezing, they were mostly comfortable standing in their layers of flannel and coats, letting the alcohol warm their insides as well. The stars glittered sharp and brilliant against the black of the sky. Dean felt a little high, though he doubted he had consumed enough beers for that to be the reason. There was an electric something he felt buzzing just under the surface, between the breathless air, and the bright expanse of stars jeweled by the one giant shining star, and the rail fence, and the looming darkness of the trees nearby. Everything stood out in stark relief, as if cut from glass. He noticed a barn in the distance and smirked briefly, remembering.

Cas noticed. “What?” he asked.

Dean gestured at the barn. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking…. of another barn. On another night.”

“Oh?” Cas asked, innocently. Too innocently. Dean looked up at that, his eyes narrowing.

“How interesting,” Cas said nonchalantly. “A barn, out in the middle of nowhere, beneath the Christmas Star, on Solstice night. And here WE are.” He spread his arms out wide, as if to encompass the large coincidence of it all.

“Cas?” Dean asked, now tilting his head to the side quizzically in that way that was usually Castiel’s signature move.

The angel smiled wide like the cat that had caught the proverbial canary.

“There’s not…. there’s not a baby in that barn, is there? There’s not sheep and a manger and a donkey and shit? Is there?”

Castiel finally turned to face Dean fully, still looking mischievous. He set his beer down on the hood of the car, then took Dean’s from his hand and set it down too. He bracketed his arms on either side of Dean’s body and said in his low and gravelly voice, “No Dean, the baby is out here, where you parked her. And the only ass I see is the mighty fine one I see attached to the man I very much lust after.” And he leaned in and grazed Dean’s lips with his own. Dean rolled his eyes with the corniness of it, but then quickly closed them in anticipation of a kiss. 

“Lust?” Dean asked, voice dropping several octaves.

“Definitely lust,” Cas answered. He ran his fingers down Dean’s chest, leaning his lips in for another chaste peck. “Also love.” 

“Whew,” Dean breathed. “I thought maybe you were just using me for my body.” He grinned impishly. 

“It IS a nice body,” Cas answered. “I should know.” He languidly unbuttoned the top button of Dean’s shirt, tracing just one finger under the fabric. Dean shivered at the sensation.

“Mmmmm?” Dean mumbled, lilting it up at the end into a question. An invitation. “Shall we take this to the back seat?”

“No,” Cas said abruptly, stepping away. Dean felt the cold air against the newly exposed skin at his collar bone, no longer protected by the warmth generated between them. He frowned. No, he pouted. 

“WTF, Cas? You’re TEASING me????”

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and began walking backwards, pulling him along. “It IS a magical night, Dean. Come on!” He turned, still clasping Dean’s hand behind him, and started walking in the direction of the barn. Dean tripped along behind him reluctantly.

“The car is WARM, Castiel!”

Cas turned around again, still walking. “I promise, you don’t want to miss this!”

“What?!?!?!?” Dean yelled, annoyed.

“The miracle!” Cas yelled back, playfully running ahead and dragging Dean along behind him. Dean bit the inside of his cheek to try to hide his grin at the sight of his serious angel of the Lord FROLICKING through the fields like a kid at recess. He didn’t quite manage it. Any reluctance on his part was now feigned, just to keep up his reputation as a hardened hunter who didn’t have time for any bullshit. He always had time for THIS kind of bullshit. He wondered briefly how cold and sodden it would be inside the barn, but again felt that faint electric something on the surface of his skin, and decided to stop worrying. He was with an angel, HIS angel, and he knew he would be ok, whatever it was he was walking into.

They arrived at the barn doors, breathless. Well, Dean was breathless. Castiel was calm, though Dean could feel that vibrational thrumming in his hand that Dean was feeling on his skin, like the air before a lightning strike. 

“Just what kind of miracle are we walking into here, Cas?” Dean asked, feeling both excited and apprehensive. 

Cas looked at him, and his eyes were shining. The adoration glowing out of the familiar bright blue eyes was almost more than Dean could stand. He fought the urge to look down or away. Castiel held the latch to the barn door in one hand, and then reached up with his other hand and held Dean’s chin firmly. It didn’t hurt, but Dean could feel that Cas wouldn’t let him turn his head. The show of strength was both startling and exhilarating. The energy he was feeling all around them jumped up a notch.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas said, the words said low but with reverence, “Don’t you know? This is a night of miracles. This confluence of heavenly bodies, the Christmas star, appearing on the night of the Solstice, the longest night of the year….. For millennia people have celebrated the return of light on this night. The return of the fertility of the soil. The PROMISE of the return of food and warmth, and…… life. The return of HOPE, Dean.” Dean felt the stroke of Cas’s thumb on his cheek, the other four fingers still holding his chin authoritatively. He started to close his eyes, but Cas shook his chin ever so slightly, letting him know that this was not allowed. Dean opened them again, green staring into blue. “The hope brought by the birth of a tiny baby that would grow to be a man, a righteous man, who liberates his people from oppression. A humble man, a carpenter, born to poor people who have to take refuge in a barn because there is no room for them anywhere else. A man born to this Earth to teach that life is HARD, yes, but you can still be GOOD, to one another, and especially to the most vulnerable among us. That you can still be BRAVE, and do what is right, even though you face death for it.”

Now Dean’s eyes were glistening, lost in the words being spoken like a prayer in front of the closed doors of the barn. “Cas….” he tried to interrupt.

“And you, Dean Winchester,” Cas continued. “Another righteous man. Another man, both GOOD and BRAVE. A man who SAVED me from being some kind of all-powerful, divine robot who didn’t even understand why smiting an entire town of people wasn’t the right thing to do. A man who taught an angel to fall. And I ended up falling in love with the whole world, all of humanity, because of you. You taught me how to love, Dean. There is no greater gift than that. I may have saved you with my grace when I pulled you out of Hell, but you saved me by giving me a soul.”

Dean swallowed. He had no words. He felt a tear run down one cheek, and let it fall. It pooled against Castiel’s fingers. 

“And if you remember, we first met in a barn, not unlike this one,” Cas finished.

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean said roughly, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. 

And then Castiel, angel of the Lord, FINALLY pushed open the door. Dean glanced up as they walked in, seeing flashes of light as glass shattered above them. Of course, he thought. He smiled and took a second to wipe the moisture from his face. They walked in solemnly, just as Castiel had all those years before. Except this time, Dean’s hand was clasped tightly in his. The sparks of light from the exploding bulbs above echoed the brilliance of the stars they had left behind outside. Dean’s skin felt heated by the hum of energy all around them, but not uncomfortably so. The lightness of their banter at the car and their run through the field was now gone, but not in a bad way. This felt heavier, like the heaviness of thick silk against the skin, or the richness of a renaissance painting. Dean was just concentrating on keeping up at this point, unable to guess what Castiel had planned next, and still feeling slightly drunk from the words Cas had just spoken. 

The barn was dry and warm, and glimmered with a faint golden light. The corners and the loft were folded in darkness, but Dean had no sense of danger. The barn was empty and smelled faintly of earth and leather. The ground was covered with dirt and straw. They stopped in the middle of the barn.

Dean turned to Castiel, waiting for whatever was next. He honestly had NO idea what was going on. There certainly was no re-creation of the nativity in here, for which he felt relieved. One never knew with Cas. Dean remembered that one time Cas had showed up naked and covered in bees. He certainly hoped that bees wouldn’t be involved in whatever was on the menu tonight! 

Cas remained silent, just looking at Dean. Dean cleared his throat. 

“You just gonna leave me hanging here, Cas? After that whole damn oration you gave outside? Help me out a little here, man.” He felt his cheeks flush. 

Cas just looked at him.

“I thought, back at the car, we might get up to something tonight. Then you started talking about babies and stuff. Doesn’t seem appropriate anymore, does it?”

Cas finally cracked, letting a little smile peek out. “Where do you think babies come from, Dean?”

“Well I don’t pretend to know everything, but I know probably not from a couple of dudes getting down and dirty in a barn.”

Castiel shook his head fondly. “Humans and their obsession with sex being dirty. THAT idea definitely came from man, not God. Nothing we do is dirty, Dean. It is all beautiful. The only things that are truly dirty are born of cruelty and apathy and the non-consensual infliction of pain on another. Hunger, torture, greed…..” He reached up and stroked Dean’s face lightly with his fingers. “Believe me when I say, Dean Winchester, that there is only breathtaking beauty in me fucking you into the floor of this barn.”

Dean gasped at the turn in words, and Castiel took the opportunity to drag the thumb at Dean’s chin into Dean’s open mouth. Dean instinctively closed his lips over Castiel’s skin and suckled softly. Cas’ eyes lit up into an electric blue, not the blue of angel grace, but just this side of it. Dean moaned.

“Good boy,” Cas said softly. Dean bit down softly, rapturously, and Cas bit his own lip in response before pulling his thumb from Dean’s mouth. 

“Last time we were in a barn like this, on the night we met, you stabbed me with a knife.”

Dean held his gaze, lust heavy in his eyes. He cocked his head to the side cheekily. “You wanting to get a little freaky with me, Cas? Some knife play perhaps?” 

Cas grinned, his facade again cracking a bit. He also knew that Dean would probably let him do it, if he asked.

“No, I didn’t bring you here tonight so we could have a knife fight. And this dirt floor doesn’t look all that appetizing either. Straw is so abrasive and scratchy.”

“Kinky,” Dean said, his mouth quirking up in a challenge.

“Yeah, but not my preferred flavor of kinky.” 

Dean knew that Cas already had a plan. He just needed to wait for Cas to decide to reveal it. He could do that. His heart was hammering a mile a minute in his chest. Soft, flirty Cas, followed by serious declaration of love Cas, followed by dark and dirty, or not dirty but kinky he corrected himself, Cas? Fuck yes. He was 100% on board with wherever this was going.

Cas’ eyes flicked to the side, seeming to search the room, and then flicked back to Dean’s face, in that dominating way he had about him. Dean knew without a doubt that Cas knew every board, nail, and splinter of wood in this room. And that he was safe here with Cas.

“Dean,” he said, his serious voice back, low and scratchy. “What does consent mean?”

Dean repeated the words they had discussed at length many times.

“It means I only do what I am enthusiastic about doing, and I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. It means I use my words, or other agreed upon means of communication. It means that either of us can change our minds or say stop whenever we want to.”

Castiel nodded. “Good boy. Now…..” He looked around the inside of the barn. “Dean, choose a post.”

Dean had no idea what Cas was leading up to, but he dutifully looked down the two rows of posts spanning up to the ceiling on either side of them. He glanced back at the post directly behind him. A large spiky piece of rebar jutted out from it at chest height. 

“Well, that one doesn’t look like too much fun, unless we’re looking to reenact my stabbing you in the heart from our first go in a barn.” He looked up at Cas to see if there would be any clues to his thoughts. Cas’ face remained blank. Damn, he wasn’t giving anything away. Dean walked over nonchalantly and twanged the piece of rebar with his finger. Fuck that noise. He looked farther down the row of posts. 

The next post over also sported a piece of rebar, probably used to hang something on he thought, but it was much higher, above his head even. Cas saw him looking.

“I think that one would be a good choice, Dean. You decide, though. Not too many splinters?”

“If there are, will you kiss my boo-boos and make them better?”

“You know I will,” Cas answered darkly. Dean shivered deliciously. He felt his cock twitching in his jeans in anticipation. He hoped he had the right idea. 

Dean quickly walked over to the other post and gave it a cursory once over before turning back towards Castiel. He was feeling more than eager at this point. 

Cas stood in front of him, looking him up and down. Dean loved this part, when Cas obviously had a whole plan probably marked through and collated and highlighted in his brain, and was just letting Dean stew for a minute, knowing how sweet and exquisitely painful the anticipation was. 

“Hold your arms up straight, Dean” Cas instructed, and yeah, there was his Dom voice. His I am an angel of the Lord and I have no fucks to give voice. Dean obediently raised his arms up straight above his head. Cas walked over, pushing gently against Dean’s chest until Dean’s back was flush against the post, his hands skimming against the piece of pipe sticking above his head. Cas leaned in close, almost conspiratorially, and said clearly and assertively, “What do you say if or when you want to stop or take a break, Dean?” 

“I say ‘stop’, Cas,” Dean replied, equally as clearly. They had decided to keep instructions as simple as possible… no need to reinvent the wheel. Cas nodded, and then stood back. Dean knew that whatever happened now would continue as Cas wanted it to, until or unless Dean said to stop. He inhaled a big breath of air and then exhaled softly, feeling his muscles relax. He loved the part where he could stop thinking. Where his responsibility ended and he could just float in the simplicity of doing as instructed. He had no need to feel nervous or self-conscious, because he wasn’t in charge of ANYTHING at this point. He had permission, he had space, he had GRACE, to just experience the feelings in his body. How could he possibly mess up if none of the decisions were his to make? His body melted against the post at the same time as it lit up with anticipation. 

Castiel squared his shoulders, his eyes darkening, and his voice rang out authoritatively. “Grasp the bar above you with your hands, Dean, and do not let go until I tell you.”

Dean immediately did as he was told. The piece of rebar wasn’t so far above his head that it was immediately uncomfortable. He had a little give to work with. But it was high enough that his arms stretched all the way up, stretching his shoulders, chest, and stomach beautifully against the post. Dean closed his eyes, and Castiel let him, licking his lips at the sight of his beloved in front of him. He began.

“I brought you to this barn tonight, Dean Winchester, on the longest night of the year, while the planets are aligned overhead to create one gleaming star from heaven shining over us, to worship you.”

Dean opened his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion. Cas saw it. He saw everything. 

“I brought you here on this magical night, much like the night in the barn when we first met, so I could make you be still. So I could show you how much you mean to me. How much you’ve given me. How much I love you. How worthy you are of love and good things.” It was that last part that had Dean shaking and lowering his arms. Cas wasn’t surprised. He knew that Dean did not see himself as worthy of worship, and that it was the last part of his “speech” that Dean would have the hardest time with. His commander of angels voice rang out like a gunshot, both quiet and solid at the same time.

“Did I tell you to lower your arms, Dean?”

“No, but….” Dean mumbled, his arms continuing to lower. Cas knew that Dean was THINKING. He was dropping out of that space he craved so much, so that he could argue with Castiel about his worthiness. Cas wasn’t having it.

“Do you want help following my instructions, Dean?” Cas asked, as he had the times before when this happened.

Dean lowered his arms all the way, his shoulders slumping.

“You want to worship me, Cas? What does that even mean? YOU are the angel, not me.”

Cas just stared at him, patiently waiting.

Dean inhaled, and exhaled slowly. He thought for a moment, Cas letting him, and then he squared his shoulders again. “Yes, Cas. I need help.”

“Do you WANT help following my instructions, Dean? I need to hear the words,” Cas asked, just to be sure. To give Dean an out.

Dean looked him straight in the eye. He was a hunter after all. And he was Dean fucking Winchester. “Yes, Castiel. I know what you are asking, and I want it.” 

Cas waited a beat, and then nodded. They both knew what was coming.

“Take off your clothes, Dean,” Cas said quietly. Dean’s eyes flicked to the open barn door. Cas quickly raised his hand and the door closed, as if it were nothing. Dean began untying his shoes. 

Finally, he stood in front of his angel without a stitch of clothes on him. He blushed a bit, unable to help it. Cas smiled softly at him, his eyes full of love. The lust had burned back to coals for a moment. A pause. 

“You ok to keep going, Dean?” Cas asked, just to check in once more.

“I’m ok to go, Castiel,” Dean answered at once, using Cas’ full name to reassure him of Dean’s seriousness and lucidity.

Cas nodded. “Ok, then. When you are ready, turn around and grab the spike above you with your hands.” Cas said it quietly, gently. He knew Dean wanted to succeed, and he wanted Dean to have that too. His hunter was so stubborn and relentless. He never gave up. Cas knew he never would.

Dean did as he was told without hesitation. He turned around, reached up, and grabbed the bar above him.

Castiel unbuckled his leather belt, and pulled it through the loops of his dress pants. Dean flinched a bit at the sound of the leather whipping through the cloth. He held on tight.

“Please keep count for as long as you can, Dean,” Cas said, again softly and gently. Dean nodded his head. He set his feet apart and rolled his shoulders.

Cas took a minute to take in the sight of his beloved in front of him. The muscles of Dean’s shoulders and back stretched gloriously. His ass was already blushing pink and looked delicious. Cas loved to look at him, but he didn’t want to draw this out too long, taking care with his lover’s feelings and willing submission, which was a gift. So he began. 

Folding the belt buckle into his hand and looping the leather around once, he reared back and cracked the belt straight across Dean’s back. Dean bucked and grunted quietly, finally stilling and calling out “One!”. Calling out the numbers helped Castiel gauge how wrecked Dean was. He never wanted to go too far. 

Castiel knew that Dean saw himself as merely his brother’s caretaker, as he had been programmed to from an early age by his father. And by extension of that role, he saw himself as caretaker of the whole world. He saw his only worth in the saving of others. And since he was a man, and not a divine savior like that other humble man long ago who was also put up upon a plank of wood, Dean was not able to save everyone. This inability, or failure in Dean’s eyes, haunted him. He was unable to BELIEVE that he was a good man worthy of love until that voice in his head grew tired and stopped talking. Sometimes Dean drank to quiet the voice. Other times he went to bars and deliberately picked fights, in a not completely conscious endeavor to get the beating he felt he deserved. Sometimes he was careless on hunts, taking injuries that he could have evaded. But Castiel knew that Dean was stubborn, and resilient, and was doing these things to quiet that voice inside of himself so he could keep going. It was his fucked up way of atonement for the sins he thought he had committed, and his mechanism for release and the blessed relief that the ensuing endorphins brought him. Castiel would rather Dean find release with him then on the filthy floor of a bar, unsure of how far the beating would go before it finally stopped. Dean asked his angel for absolution to quiet the demons in his head, and his angel obliged. Sometimes, if the voices got quiet enough, Dean COULD believe for a little while, that he was good. That he deserved to be loved. Cas needed him to hear the words and believe them.

“Four,” Dean choked out, his voice still strong. Red welts formed along the curves of his back. He was a strong man, and Castiel knew that Dean wouldn’t buckle until blood was drawn. He drew back the leather strap, and let it fly. The sharp thud of leather against skin vibrated throughout the room, followed now by small moans. Dean was no longer able to hold them back. Castiel was glad, because that meant that Dean was getting close. Castiel swung again, watching the belt bite against skin, and finally seeing blood rise to the surface and drip down his back. Dean always required a blood penitence. 

Dean had stopped counting. He was still able to hold on to the spike above his head, but now he could only moan. Castiel gave him one last lick, and then dropped the belt. Dean was still on his feet, able to stand. Blood ran down his back in stripes. His shoulders heaved with his rapid breathing, and his head lolled on his shoulder. Castiel knew that the incriminating voices in his head would leave him alone for a while now. So that Dean could hear the words he needed to hear. 

Cas walked over and lightly put his hand on Dean’s arm, letting him know he was there. Dean let his arms down and turned around, looking up into the eyes of his angel. Castiel could see some of the fatigue in his eyes from the beating, but he could also see the endorphins zinging along under his skin. He could see the relief in his shoulders and his chest. He could see the lightness in him. 

“Do you need water, Dean?”

Dean shook his head no, not wanting to stop.

“Do you need to take a break, Dean?”

Dean shook his head no. 

“Words, please,” Cas said.

“No. I’m ok to keep going,” Dean said, and his voice was strong and sure. Cas looked into his eyes, searching for truth, and then nodded his head, satisfied. 

“Ok, my love. I need you to face me, and hold your arms above your head, holding onto the bar, until I say to let go.”

Dean’s arms went up without hesitation, hands grasping the bar obediently. Castiel checked Dean’s eyes once more, looking for fear or reluctance, and saw none. He ran his hands down the sides of Dean’s body, and Dean shivered at the contact. He let his hand linger on one side, lovingly tracing the skin above Dean’s hip with his fingers.

“It was Thomas who doubted Jesus,” Cas said quietly. “After Jesus was put to the cross, and then rose again. Thomas didn’t have enough faith. He had to actually touch Jesus to be sure it was him. The palms of Jesus’ hands, and then here at his side, where they had pierced the savior with a spear. Thomas had to put his fingers inside of Jesus to believe.” Cas looked up into Dean’s face. “Or so they say.”

Cas stood back and took in the sight of Dean’s body slowly, looking him up and down. Dean was still, letting him look as long as he wanted. His breathing was still slowing from the whipping. He was beginning to feel calm, to feel floaty. The warmth of the blood on his back felt comforting. His shoulders were tired, but not overly so. The ache felt good. He felt high. 

“And it was Judas who kissed him,” Castiel continued, his voice quiet but strong. “In the garden of Gethsemane. “ And Castiel leaned forward and kissed Dean on the mouth, gently and sweetly, leaving his lips there for a moment, and then darting his tongue out to taste him. Dean moaned and opened his mouth, letting him in. They kissed languidly for a while, Dean letting Cas lead, content to feel the push and pull of the angel’s tongue, his angel taking him as he pleased. After a few minutes, Cas pulled back and opened his eyes, waiting for Dean to open his. Keeping the direct eye contact, just inches apart, Cas said loudly and clearly, “You are so beautiful.” Dean did not flinch. He held on to the metal above him, and listened to Castiel. 

Cas ran his hands over Dean’s body reverently, as if Dean were a cherished thing. He ran his hands over the slopes of Dean’s face, petting down his cheeks. He leaned in and kissed Dean’s eyelids, his forehead, his mouth again. His hands wandered over Dean’s shoulders and he smoothed the backs of his hands up along the exposed undersides of Dean’s arms. He rubbed his hands lightly over Dean’s chest, relishing the silky slide of his skin there. He fingered his nipples a bit before slipping farther down to caress his stomach and his hips. Dean moaned in pleasure. It was an unrestrained sound, and Castiel felt pleasure upon hearing it. This was what he wanted for Dean.

His hands continued below Dean’s hips, fluttering lightly over his cock but not stopping there, not yet. He caressed the insides of Dean’s thighs, running his fingers over his knees and down to his feet. Every scar, every mark, Castiel loved. He wished for a moment that he had warm water and perfume with which to wash Dean’s feet just as Jesus had, but filed that away for another time. 

Castiel knelt at Dean’s feet. He looked up, meeting Dean’s gaze. Dean looked at him adoringly, his eyes heavy with arousal and also affection. 

“This is what I meant, Dean. I want to worship you, here in this barn on this night. I want to worship you BECAUSE you are a man, and because you taught me how to love. I love the whole world, everyone, because of you. Everything you do, you do for love, Dean. You are the most selfless, loving human being I have ever, or will ever, know.”

And Dean was quiet. He looked at Castiel with open eyes, and he listened.

“To worship means to adore, and I adore you, Dean. And I want to adore you, as a practice. An action. An act of love. I want you to feel in your body how much I love you, and how much I want you.”

Dean swallowed, his throat bobbing, and nodded. He was listening. 

Castiel sat all the way up on his knees, his eyes flicking down from Dean’s eyes, and he leaned in and nuzzled his face against Dean’s straining cock. Dean whimpered, squirming a bit. Cas reached up and gently took Dean’s balls in one hand, continuing to rub his cheeks and his face against the silkiness of Dean’s cock. He breathed in, savoring the musky, earthy scent of Dean, and then slowly, finally, lapped at the head of his cock. Dean exhaled a punched out breath, arousal spiking all through his body. He felt lit up with pure ecstasy, feeling wave upon wave pulse through him. Castiel continued with kitten licks along the head of his cock, taking his time, opening his eyes to stare up with adoration. Dean started breathing quickly again, panting and squirming under Cas’ careful ministrations. 

“Please,” Dean moaned, begging. Cas paused his gentle licks to smile, grinning a bit wickedly. 

“You are beautiful, Dean. Glorious. You bring me so much happiness.” Dean panted and groaned above him, beginning to feel that exquisite pain of wanting and not getting. Cas rolled his balls in his hand gently. “You are kind, and strong, and brave, and smart,” he continued, unhurried. “You are divine. And delicious.” And with that Castiel swallowed Dean down, taking his cock all the way into his mouth until he could feel it at the back of his throat. He moaned, letting Dean feel the vibrations in his throat. Dean tipped his head back and practically yelled, his hands shaking to hold onto the metal above his head. Cas pulled off and licked one long stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock, savoring the feel and taste along his tongue. He swallowed him again, taking his time and licking along the length of him. He caressed the insides of his thighs with his hands, moving up slowly to touch his balls, his ass cheeks, and finally back behind his balls and his hole. He petted him thoroughly and lovingly, all the while his tongue and lips keeping pace on his cock. 

Cas looked up at Dean, his eyes shining. Dean could no longer keep his eyes open. He was wrecked. He held on as if for dear life, body heaving and heart thumping like a freight train. His arms shook. His legs shook. His body was on fire. He felt purified, clear and clean. 

“Please, Cas. Please.”

“Yes, Dean? What would you like?” Cas asked coyly, pretending not to understand. He wanted Dean like this for as long as possible, pliant and well-behaved. Open and willing. Taking in pleasure and receiving praise. He didn’t want this to end yet.

He wasn’t a monster though, so he stood up, letting Dean rest from the constant stimulation that would make him come too soon. Cas put one hand on Dean’s heart and the other hand on his cheek, kissing his face and down to his neck.

“You’re doing so well, Dean. You are so beautiful. You are so good. You shine so brightly, brighter than that star outside.”

Dean’s breathing slowed a little bit, his brow smoothing out. His shoulders shuddered with the exertion, and he quieted. He opened his eyes. He knew Castiel wouldn’t give him more than he could take. The trust was complete.

“Just a little longer, Dean, and then I’ll let you come.” 

Dean nodded.

“I want to make you feel good, Dean. You deserve to feel good.”

Dean nodded again. Castiel beamed, feeling that high he got when he was successful in bringing pleasure to his lover… when he was successful in getting his lover to receive both love and gratification. He felt the rush of accomplishment run through him, and his eyes dilated in his own arousal and ecstasy. This was HIS high.

Castiel reached up, feeling Dean’s arms and hands.

“Can you still feel this, Dean? Feel my hands here?” he asked, making sure Dean wasn’t losing sensation.

“Yes,” Dean huffed out, nodding. He licked his lips, eyes going to Cas’ lips. He wanted. 

Cas leaned in kissed him deeply, opening his mouth right away and taking in Dean’s tongue. One of his hands slipped down to Dean’s throat, holding him forcefully in the way he knew that Dean liked. In the way that made Dean feel desired. Dean melted under the touch, moaning softly. Cas fingered his throat gently with his thumb, before tightening his grip again, careful to do it just right. Just hard enough, just long enough, in just the right spot. Dean’s cock twitched against Castiel. 

Cas pulled away from the kiss, his hand reaching up to Dean’s face, turning his head to the side roughly. He held his face lovingly but firmly, and dipped a finger into Dean’s mouth. Dean sucked it in eagerly, feeling the luscious sensation of fullness it provided. Holding Dean’s head firmly to the side, knowing Dean liked to be manhandled when in this state of subspace, Cas licked down his throat, nipping and biting as he went. He tasted the salt of Dean’s sweat on his chest, and then grazed over his nipples with his teeth, settling to lick and bite at one, and then the other. Dean suckled harder at his fingers, moaning in contentment. Cas turned his teeth and tongue to the other nipple, letting the fingers of his free hand pinch and play at the other, continuing relentlessly until Dean started bucking against him, trying to get friction against his cock. He was losing control again. Cas lapped harder at his nipple, sucking and biting, his fingers rolling and pinching the other, until he thought Dean might come just from that. Then he finally pulled away, his free hand rubbing Dean’s flushed chest down gently. Dean settled a bit, still sucking at Cas’ finger and whimpering quietly.

“You,” Cas said pointedly, looking at Dean, “are a very good boy.” Dean moaned, enjoying the pressure of Cas’ hand holding him still. 

Dean’s whole body was flushed now, pink and golden and beautiful. He could no longer keep still and his muscles rippled under his skin like water. 

“Ok, beauty. I’m going to let you come soon. I just have one more task for you.”

Dean listened. He listened very hard. 

“I want this to be good for you. You deserve good things.”

Dean nodded, quiet and attentive. 

“I’m going to drop to my knees, and take you in my mouth, and worship you.”

Dean nodded, accepting this. Wanting this. God, he wanted this.

“But I don’t want it to be over too fast. So I need you to do something. We ARE under the Christmas star, after all.” Cas looked up as if he could see it through the roof of the barn. “I want this to be sacred, and special, and worthy of you.”

Dean felt like screaming. Jesus Christ, just tell me what to do, Castiel!!!! 

“I want you to recite a hymn. Or a Christmas carol. You have to say at least one verse. Once you finish, you can come.”

Dean’s eyes widened into saucers. He almost broke out of the scene in his astonishment. Almost. But he was too good of a sub, too good of a boy, to do that. He swallowed the expletives that bubbled up to his lips, and nodded obediently. 

“You can pick the song. Or I can pick one for you, if you like. But it must be a serious one. I’m not going to blow you to “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”, Dean. I warn you, you mouth off to me and you get spanked over my knee and put back in the car and that’s the end of it.”

Dean smirked, his eyes twinkling, and he nodded. Then he began trying to think of a song. Castiel, that kinky fucker. Christmas star, indeed.

Serious songs. Dean didn’t want to recite anything he remembered his mom singing at Christmas cuz gross, though luckily he didn’t really remember her singing many songs at Christmas in the short time they had had together, so that was a win. A few silly ones came to mind quickly, but he believed Cas when he said he would spank him, and though that was sometimes fun, it would NOT be fun tonight, so he kept to his instructions. What SERIOUS Christmas songs did he know????? His shoulders ached from the constant stretch of his arms, and his cock felt like it was going to go off like a volcano if he didn’t come soon. He needed to do this. 

A song came to him. A Christmas carol. Cas had mentioned the star of Bethlehem earlier. Dean remembered the first verse of a song about Bethlehem. He couldn’t remember where he had heard it, but he was pretty sure he could get through it. The first verse at least. Maybe. Hopefully. He rolled his shoulders back to stretch the muscles there a bit. Cas saw the look in his eyes change.

“Got one?” Cas asked, his eyes dark and hungry now.

“Yeah,” Dean said, his words slurring a bit. “Yeah I think so. Don’t gotta sing it, right?” 

Cas chuckled softly. “You can say it or sing it any way you like, Dean. You just have to hold on through one verse.”

“Ok. I can do that,” Dean mumbled roughly. A wave of affection swept through Castiel, and he leaned in and kissed Dean hungrily. He was starting to lose his restraint. It was time to wrap this up. 

Pulling away, he knelt at Dean’s feet again, and looked up into his eyes. Dean had heard Cas call him beautiful it seemed like 20 times tonight, but as he looked down at his angel staring so adoringly back up at him, he couldn’t think of another word to describe him except beautiful. He truly loved him.

Dean’s cock was red and swollen and throbbing. Keeping his gaze on Dean’s face, Cas took his cock inside of himself. The heat from Cas’ mouth hit him hard and quick, and the feeling was indescribable. He wanted to hold on like Cas asked him to. He wanted to do this last assignment. He felt Cas’ sinfully satiny tongue wrapping around him, pulling him tighter into the heat of his mouth. Cas swallowed around him and Dean tilted his head back and groaned, trying not to thrust into Cas’ mouth. He could do this.

He took a breath, and began.

The words came out in a whisper at first, through panted breaths. He gripped the bar above him so tightly his fingers turned white. His legs shook beneath him. Cas wasn’t holding anything back now. He bobbed up and down over Dean’s length incessantly. 

“Oh little town of Bethlehem,” Dean panted, swallowing hard. “How still we see thee lie.”

Cas moaned beneath him, relishing the words and the feel of the skin on his tongue. Dean held on to the spike above him harder, feeling that feeling deep in his gut, knowing it was coming. He wanted it so bad.

“Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by,” he choked out. Cas added a hand to the base of his dick, steadily jacking him while he sucked him down. Dean could barely hold himself up, let alone think. What was the next line? 

Cas popped off for a second and Dean groaned. 

“You’re doing so well, my love. You can do it.” He reached out with his wet, pink tongue and sucked at the head of Dean’s cock. Dean bucked into him. “What’s the next line, Dean?” Cas asked quietly and calmly, as if this was just your average weeknight in front of the tv. Dean knew him well enough to hear the strain underneath his voice though. He knew Cas was hard and ready to go too. Dean closed his eyes and concentrated, and Cas closed his mouth around him again, jacking him more roughly now.

“Yet in thy dark streets shineth,” Dean continued. He stopped and groaned, panting hard. His heart raced and his blood burned. He started thrusting into Cas’ mouth. He couldn’t help it. Cas didn’t seem to mind. He just continued at his constant pace, slick and fast, taking Dean in as far as Dean wanted to go. “The everlasting light.” Dean finally finished the line.

Cas rumbled deep in his throat, his tongue sweeping over Dean’s skin and his lips pulling and sucking. Dean thrust into him and Cas took him down into his throat. Dean would probably stop and wonder at that if he was capable of coherent thought right now. Cas reached up and slipped his fingers between Dean’s ass cheeks, running a finger lightly over his hole, over and over. Dean knew he was close.

Last line. He could do this.

“The hopes and fears,” he gasped out. “Of all the years.” He gasped again, clenching his eyes shut, feeling the rush coming, knowing he couldn’t stop it. “Are met in thee.” He gulped one more breath. “Tonight.” 

And then he let out the roar trapped in his throat, groaning loudly and thrusting one final time DOWN Castiel’s throat and spilling spilling spilling, feeling wave after wave wash over him as he finally came. It felt like forever. And Cas took it all, keeping Dean in his mouth as Dean lost control and speared into him roughly, feeling his balls slap against Cas’ face, Cas who was still gentle enough to keep his teeth tucked away, to receive whatever Dean had to give him.

Dean let it roll over him, all the praise and adoration and loving words and feelings of being GOOD. He shouted in pure joy and release, letting everything bubble up and out of him.

Dean groaned one last time, and then whimpered, his body shaking, and his arms and shoulders finally slumping, about to give. Cas quickly stood up and said “Lower your arms now, Dean,”, and caught Dean as he released them and fell forward into Cas’ arms. Cas helped him gently to the ground where he held him in his lap. Whomever coined orgasm as the “little death” had the right idea, thought Castiel to himself. Dean was a dead weight in his arms. He let him rest, listening to his heartbeat slow and his breathing calm. Dean burrowed his face into Cas’ neck, the skin warm and smelling vaguely of cinnamon. Cas rubbed Dean’s back and ran his fingers through his hair. Dean’s back was sticky with blood, but Cas knew it would still be a little while until Dean would feel it. He had time. And sometimes Dean would let him heal him afterwards. Sometimes not, and the choice was always Dean’s. He reached over and grabbed Dean’s flannel shirt, discarded on the floor, and draped it over him. Cas could give him a few minutes to float before he would get too cold.

Their hearts lay close against each other, both slower and steadier now. Dean stirred, nuzzling deeper into the space between Cas’ throat and his shoulder. He breathed in Cas’ smell, obviously relishing it, and then reached out his tongue and licked his skin there, tasting the salty sweetness of it. Cas smiled, hugging him close. How he loved this man. This big, brave man who let him hold him like this, cradled in his arms. 

Dean snuck one more lick like a little kid with a sucker, and then shifted finally, leaning back to look in Cas’ face. 

“What is that? Frankincense? Myrrh?” he asked, sniffing at Cas’ skin. Dean smiled, his eyes glowing with laughter and affection. Cas could tell that Dean was back, on the other side of that velvety, floaty space that felt so good to him.

“Are you asking if I use frankincense deodorant, Dean?” Cas asked, his own mouth curving up into a smile. 

Dean smiled at his angel lovingly, leaning in to kiss him deeply and sweetly on the mouth. “Thank you, Castiel,” he said finally. “That was fucking amazing.”

Castiel blushed and ducked his head, the commanding angel now tucked away neatly like the wings on his back. He looked back up, meeting Dean’s eyes. “I love you,” he said, quietly and solemnly.

“I love you, too,” Dean answered him, just as solemnly.

Dean stretched, grimacing a bit at the pull of the wounds on his back and the tightness of his shoulders.

“Come on,” Cas said, gently but firmly helping Dean to his feet. “Let’s get you dressed before it gets too cold in here. Now that our ‘amorous fervor’ has worn off.” Dean huffed a laugh out at that. He could practically hear the finger quotes in Cas’ voice. Cas smiled back. Dean was still shaky on his feet, so Cas supported him while Dean climbed into his jeans and put on his boots. 

“Can I take care of these?” Cas asked quietly before he helped Dean into his shirt, gesturing to the lacerations on his back. He tried not to push too much. Dean was a grown man, and could make decisions for himself. Part of this relationship, a big part, was trusting each other. Sometimes, for whatever personal reasons Dean had, Dean asked to keep the wounds and let them heal on their own. Cas trusted him to do what he needed to do, resting in the faith that Dean knew that Cas was there if Dean wanted him.

Dean shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Cas laid two fingers against Dean’s forehead and healed his wounds. Dean hummed at the odd sensation of his skin knitting back together so quickly. Cas then helped Dean finish dressing, and they held hands as they exited the barn. The air was bitingly cold after the warmth of the barn and their shared heat. Dean looked up into the sky, and felt dizzy for a minute, grabbing at Cas’ arm to steady himself. He didn’t look down though. The stars were beautiful. They took his breath away. He watched for a moment, and then tilted his head back down, catching Cas gazing at him softly. 

“Stop it,” Dean said self-consciously, grinning.

“I’ll stop looking at you when you stop being prettier than the stars.”

Dean laughed out loud at that, knocking a shoulder into Cas. They were both still drunk on each other, high on life and love and the sweeping energy of the night. 

“You’re one kinky little fella, you know that, Cas?” Dean asked. 

“Look who’s talking!” Cas exclaimed. “I had to read up for a solid week to figure out what you wanted me to do!”

“One whole week, and you got all us kinky bastards figured out, huh? That’s pretty impressive, Cas.”

“The things you do for love.” His blue eyes sparkled in the starlight, and Dean squeezed his hand affectionately at his words. 

“Come on, let’s get back to the car,” Cas said, pulling him along. “You’re still coming down from the scene and I need to get you rehydrated and get some food into you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Ok, MOM!”

“Ewww, gross. Don’t bring your mom into our sexual escapades, Dean. That’s highly inappropriate.”

“Well you’re the one who started talking about babies in barns and stuff.”

“Actually I believe YOU were the first one to mention a baby, Dean. And farm animals.” He clucked his tongue teasingly. 

“Yeah, ok, “ Dean conceded. “Buy me a burger on the way home and we’ll call it even.” 

“I’m driving though, cuz you’re still kind of shaky.”

“Ok,” Dean replied. Cas was kind of surprised at how easily Dean gave that concession, but was grateful for it. He planned on giving him water and a granola bar in the car to make sure he didn’t drop. His wounds might be healed, but it had still been a pretty intense impact scene, and that could sometimes spiral unexpectedly in a human’s head. And since the head belonged to HIS human, he was adamant about responsible aftercare.

They climbed into the car, Dean going straight to the passenger side. Cas started the car and let it warm for a minute.

“Holy shit, I’m an idiot,” Dean exclaimed after a minute. “You never got to finish, Cas. What the hell? We got all carried away with me and we forgot you!”

Cas smiled at his hunter. His dear, sweet, loving, selfless, sometimes goofy hunter. 

“I loved so much that you let me do that with you, Dean. That was so much trust, and so much submission. I asked a lot of you. And I’m honored that you gave it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ok. But that doesn’t make up for an orgasm.”

“Sometimes, it’s not about the pleasure I’m receiving. Or rather, I FEEL pleasure from giving it. I get gratification from giving it, both mental and physical." He looked at Dean studiously. “From giving it to you.” And he reached over and kissed Dean’s lips sweetly. 

“Ok, angel. Feed me and take me home. But I might not be able to keep my hands to myself all the way there.”

Cas began to pull back onto the road. “You, Dean Winchester? Unable to control your roaming hands???? Why I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“Shaddup,” Dean mumbled, grinning stupidly. 

Dean turned on the radio. Cas refrained from admonishing him about the driver getting to pick the music. 

“You know, we’re really not that close to home. Your little field trip here was unexpected, Cas.”

Cas nodded.

“Maybe we should get a motel. I mean burgers first of course, then a motel.”

“That’s true,” Cas mused. “I just hope…” 

“Hope what?” Dean asked, concerned at Cas’ slight frown. Karen Carpenter crooned mellowly from the radio. A Christmas song, of course. Dean couldn’t remember the name of this one. 

“Well,” Cas answered after a pause. “I just hope there’s room, you now. At the inn. For the two of us. I don’t want to have to stay in a barn or something.”

Dean looked over at him seriously. “You are terrible, Castiel.” Cas started smiling his big, gummy smile. “You are a horrible, awful corndog and you are probably going to Hell for that.”

“Oh, I’ve already been there, Dean. I got exactly what I needed from there and I’ve never looked back.” And Dean’s serious, dorky, painfully literal, immortal, confused, badass angel of the Lord had the audacity to glance over and wink flirtatiously at him.


End file.
